The Draw
by AmmiZL
Summary: Fanfic for Fan Culture field trip activity. Written in one shot and first attempt at fan fiction. Jesse and Hanzo are back together after a long period of traveling on behalf of Overwatch. The distance has put a bit of strain on their relationship and they have to figure out how to live with each other once again. Although fluffy initially, the strain of a Long Distance Relationsh


**The Draw**

A McHanzo Fic.

 **Summary** :

Fanfic for Fan Culture field trip activity. Written in one shot and first attempt at fan fiction.

Jesse and Hanzo are back together after a long period of traveling on behalf of Overwatch. The distance has put a bit of strain on their relationship and they have to figure out how to live with each other once again. Although fluffy initially, the strain of a Long Distance Relationship starts showing as flashbacks for both men come hurling back.

 **Plotline**

When Hanzo opened his eyes and realized what day it was, instead of hopping out of bed excitedly, he laid in the darkness for just a little longer. The aches of last week's mission still hadn't worn off, causing a grimace to linger on his lips. He silently scolded himself and rolled over in bed, his gaze wavering in focus on the digital clock. 6 am.

' _Is that how you're going to greet Jesse?'_ He had 4 hours to fix his attitude before he would pack two lunches and himself into the car and head out towards the airport. For now, however, he was content with lurking beneath the covers and trying to let the day roll by without any upset.

It had been nearly seven months since Hanzo and Jesse had seen each other in person. They had just gotten settled into a new apartment together when Jesse got a call from Winston. It hadn't even been a week before Hanzo walked into their bedroom with a cup of tea and looked around in surprise. A suitcase laid out on their bed with half of Jesse's clothes haphazardly stuffed into the compartments. The cowboy himself was scurrying around the room, pulling things out of half-opened drawers and banging around with a huff.

"What's going on?" Jesse merely grunted in response. The tightness of his voice was haunting. Something was wrong.

"Jesse?" Hanzo prodded with uncertainty. Jesse continued to ignore his questioning, instead opening the lower drawer and pulling out rounds of ammunition for Peacekeeper. It was then that Hanzo realized what his boyfriend was doing. 'No. No no no no no.' He strode forth, put his cup down, and slammed the suitcase closed with enough force that it startled his boyfriend out of the packing frenzy.

"Jesse McCree what the hell is going on here?" Hanzo shouted. Jesse glared at him with impatience, but Hanzo refused to break the stare. They stood in that deadlock for a couple of seconds before he had realized that tears were forming at the corner of his eyes. Jesse must've noticed as his expression had melted from ire to this knowing sadness that Hanzo had seen too many times before. It was the same expression Jesse gave him when he learned that his mother had died, the sort that you'd give a friend who was just experiencing the loss of a pet for the first time. Jesse broke their stare, closing his eyes in what seemed like pain, before moving closer to Hanzo and folding the smaller man in his arms.

Hanzo had not stopped staring at where Jesse was standing, not even when his boyfriend embraced him. His mind was reeling in shock and anguish. There were only two things that would cause his cowboy to pack up that quickly, and he knew that picking up pizza was not something that requires a suitcase. When Hanzo and Jesse started dating, Angela and Winston had promised that they'd be placed in missions together when possible. Dark thoughts involving an accident with poisoned peanut butter ran through the warrior's mind. It took Hanzo a while to realize that Jesse was rubbing his back. He had been shaking.

"Darlin' it shouldn't take long. Besides, Genji is coming along." That information wasn't reassuring.

"Blackwatch ops…" he muttered. ' _When possible_ ' Winston's words echoed in his mind. Jesse nodded and put his hand on Hanzo's. Hanzo felt the warm, calloused fingers scoop up his palm and held it firmly in their grasp. The rough of the suitcase fell away. Jesse gently pat his lover's hand before letting it fall to Hanzo's side. With that, he turned back towards the suitcase.

"Tracer said something about finding leads on Talon. It's in former Blackwatch territory and so the group decided it was best for me and Genji to go. They'll be with us each step of the way, and Winston should contact you soon with more details." Hanzo took a heavy breath in before nodding in understanding. Nonetheless, the news felt like a bullet.

"I just thought we'd agreed that you don't keep things like this from me." Jesse's rumbling laughter filled the room and Hanzo felt a kiss on his forehead.

"I said the same thing when Winston called me this morning."

"They just told you today?"

"While you were in the shower. Ruined my coffee and everything." Hanzo watched as the cowboy puttered around the room, the couple resuming their comfortable silence. Or, at least, a silence that put on the airs of comfortable; he could feel the worry start to bubble up. There was a lot that Jesse could do, especially with that gun at his hip, but the man was still human. His left arm was a testament to that. However, there wasn't a lot to be done and, by that evening, Hanzo found himself eating dinner alone.

Little did he know that eating dinner alone would become a daily ritual. September became October, which turned into December which would fade away to the arrival of Spring. The week-long mission ended up dragging McCree all over the globe for months. It turned out that, more often than not, Jesse and Genji were the first to know the latest clues. Those two were always bad communicators and, despite all of Winston's attempts to keep the two in check and Athena's watch on the news, the cowboy and ninja would disappear for days at a time.

What was worse was that Hanzo could do nothing but watch. He was built to be a warrior and the heir of the Shimada clan, to stand in the thick of things, and watching from the sidelines was not comfortable. After Halloween, Hanzo could feel the absence start sinking in. Despite a lifetime of training in patience, the warrior was going stir-crazy from sitting around and waiting for the next hint that his boyfriend or brother would toss his way. He wanted to join, to be useful, but during the times when he could get a video call from Jesse, the cowboy shot down any pleas or demands to join them. In fact, Jesse would just shut down in general. Half-way through November, Hanzo had given up and focused on taking his mind off of the missions. But that proved to be of little use.

Even the few missions he went on with Fareeha didn't help, and typically Fareeha's get-it-done attitude was grounding. Things took a turn for the worse when the holidays came around, moving from sadness to apathy and anger. As the winter settled into the northeastern United States, Hanzo's mood got worse. He wasn't used to the biting cold that came with living in that part of the continent, or at least that's what he tried to tell himself.

"You spent last year in London!" Lena teased Hanzo. He had commented on the weather being too cold to go out for Christmas. Hanzo glumly looked into his tea cup.

"Yeah, but last year I spent my evenings snuggled up in Jesse's serape." He felt Lena's hand on his shoulder.

"Oh, come on love! Company would be good for you, and Zenyatta was thinking about hosting a party. You should try and get out, at least." Hanzo shrugged and went back to silently drinking his tea. Lena sighed and placed a manila folder on the coffee table. Hanzo peeked over the rim of his tea, a dejected but curious mood plastered to his face.

"Well, love, I have to go, but Winston wanted me to drop this off. It's for your next mission." And with that, Hanzo felt a pat on his back before seeing the bob of brown hair head out the door. He sat back in the chair for a while, looking at the folder, before putting his mug in the sink and heading back to bed.

The bed had become a sanctuary for quite some time, a sort of bunker against the assault of uncertainty and loneliness the world had thrusted upon him. It was ironic, since it was the one place that reminded Hanzo of Jesse the most and made him the loneliest. Nevertheless, the bed was a haven. It could've been the comfort of the soft down blankets he'd gotten in Jesse's absence, or the fact that Soba and Udon would often come cuddle up next to him when he was particularly dejected.

Spring, however, would break the haven. Now the down blankets were stored away with the winter clothing and the plane carrying his love would be touching down in 2 hours. Besides, there was never sanctuary with two dragons tugging at your hair, asking for food.

"Alright, alright!" Hanzo pushed the sheets off as his two dragons scampered down and raced towards the kitchen. Groggily, he followed his ancient spirit cats to the fridge and fished out a tubberware of rice. They purred contently as he popped the tub in the microwave and wiggled up to the kitchen counter. Hanzo went into the pantry and pulled out a variety of pickled vegetables, some dried and cured meats, and rice. Slowly, he started to make rice and put together something that resembled a bento. With that, the two hours passed by under the watchful eye of the chef and his dragons.

The road leading to the airport was a long one, and Hanzo clung to the steering wheel as he slowly drove north. The traffic in Boston was terrible, but for the first time Hanzo didn't mind. It gave him something to focus on, something to blot out the nervousness of coming to pick up his cowboy. Sure, the excitement was there, but clearly something was wrong. From the conversation last night, Hanzo could tell that Jesse was exhausted, even a little hopeless.

"Would you mind picking me up at Logan tomorrow?"

"You're coming home tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"Wait, from where? When?"

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll tell you when I get there."

"No Jesse, I need to know when."

"Why?"

"So I can pick you up."

"... 10 am. Look, I've gotta go. I'm sorry. I love you."

And with that, Jesse hung up the phone. The conversation was jarring and short, like the swerving necessary to navigate Boston proper traffic. Hanzo didn't want to think about how angry or frustrated he'd been for the last several months, but his whitened knuckles spoke otherwise.

As he put the car in park, he took a deep breath and stepped out. A lot of things had changed since he'd last seen Jesse, and he wasn't sure how he'd react. Hanzo wasn't even sure if he'd know how he'd react to Jesse, who had seemed to change so much in the time he'd been away. But, even as he tried to calm himself down, each step he took towards the airport seemed to echo the anxiety building in his stomach. He knew that he was supposed to be excited, or ecstatic, or whatever else people felt when their loved one was coming home after a long time away. All he could feel was a sickening knot that wrapped around his chest like a noose. He was slightly trembling by the time he had reached the sliding doors that opened to the clanging of the airport.

The hubbub would almost be soothing if it weren't for the amount of people that swarmed the place. The bowman's instincts kicked into high gear as he traversed the busy place. He counted his exits, kept an eye on the variety of people who seemed to flood from each hallway, straining to listen for anything out of the ordinary. Granted, there was little he could hear from the booming echo of the intercom, but you could never be too cautious. As he trudged towards the gates that marked the international greeting area, he couldn't help but notice the happy couples rejoicing or the screaming children as they rushed towards their grandparents.

' _You're supposed to be excited, Hanzo.'_ The inner voice warned of something bad. This was not how relationships were supposed to be. He would do anything to be overjoyed right now, but the dread of drifting apart too much seemed to pound out any sense of security the past two years with Jesse had given him. ' _What is wrong with you? You weren't even that way when you learned that Genji wasn't dead. Maybe you're not good enough for him. Maybe he's not good enough for you. Maybe-_ '

The door opened and a few people seemed to trickle out. Hanzo held his breath, searching for any sign of the serape and cowboy hat that was signature to his beloved. Nothing. The door opened again and another couple walked out, this time making a speedy departure towards the parking garages. As Hanzo fought between keeping an eye out on his surroundings and getting his hopes up for seeing McCree, the insecurities started to pick away at whatever courage he had. The senses were overwhelming. There were too many people. He didn't want to believe it. They had gone on two years strong. Between the ups and downs of Overwatch, a little mission wasn't going to get in the way. Right? Hanzo squeezed his eyes shut to try and stop the world from spinning, but the dizziness only got worse. ' _Please make it stop. Please make it stop. Please..._ '

"Howdy, darlin'."

Hanzo opened his eyes.


End file.
